Thief of the Caribbean
by Amalia Paige
Summary: Morgan is a street urchin, a thief. When she goes to Tortuga to escape the law and find a safehaven, she meets up with our dear Captain Jack Sparrow, and all sorts of things ensue. (PG for later, nice long chapters!)


"Not all men seek rest and peace, some are born with the spirit of the storm in their blood, restless harbingers of violence and bloodshed, knowing no other path."  
  
Morgan inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and relishing the sweet, fresh air of the ocean. Opening her eyes again, she looked about her surroundings.  
She was kneeling on the deck of a boat. It couldn't even be called a ship, it was too small, probably no longer than 20 feet. A pole ran up from the center of the boat to her left, and leading off of it was the boom, both holding up a ragged sail that was puffed up with the breeze whispering gently into it, moving the boat along slowly. Beyond the sail was the sky, midnight blue directly above her but tinged lighter and rose colored on the green, rolling hills of the horizon, not but 10 or so miles away. Gray sea water, shimmering pink in reflection of the sunrise, rolled and churned beneath Morgan's boat relatively calmly, working with the gentle wind to glide her towards the land.  
Morgan herself was a sight less pleasing than her surroundings. Her dirty brown hair was drawn back into a hasty ponytail, but pieces of it framed her face as they had fallen from the filthy ribbon that was pulling up her hair's hold. Her face itself brought about a strong feeling of coldness and an unyielding personality, with prominent cheekbones, a small upturned nose, and pouting lips. However, also on this otherwise unimpressive face were her eyes--truly remarkable. They were her redeeming quality, adding immediate beauty to her features. Her almond shaped eyes were light green, tinged with gold flecks, rimmed by a pine green circle. Long eyelashes framed them, and you couldn't help but notice them. For also in these eyes held hostility and hatred, for everything she saw. They showed no emotion to the amazing natural wonders around her.  
Her body was thin, but strong. Her skin was heavily tanned, her figure boyish, and her hands calloused and rough. She was barefoot and wearing only a plain brown dress that came to her knees, with short sleeves and frayed ends, a very modest look for people of her type.  
She was a street urchin, homeless, with nobody that cared. But she never thought of it that way. She preferred to refer to herself as independent, a wanderer, a thief. Call her otherwise and you had made a death wish. She was tough in every way, the opposite of any proper woman you could name, with nothing to her name besides herself and a dagger. The boat she was on, called Calypso, was not hers. She had stolen it from the docks late in the night, sailed off, without any notice whatsoever. The two guards on duty taking care of the dock were fast asleep, snoring thunderously.  
Back in the town she had taken the boat from, she was wanted. Wanted for thievery and fraud, or something of the likes. She couldn't exactly stay there, her looks were distinct and noticeable at a glance. So she had left. She was headed to Tortuga, a place she heard was a pirate's haven. Pirates. She could connect with them. Thieves, only caring for themselves, doing anything for the gold. She would find people of her likeness there, people who understood her plight and would hopefully help her to find somewhere to hide until she was forgotten.  
Morgan leaned back so that she sat down on the boat's floor, leaning her back against the pole. It was a risky plan, and it would take work, she knew. While the pirates would likely understand her, they were still pirates, thinking only of their own skins and gold. They might just trick her and turn her in for the reward money. She would have to be careful, that was all. There was no real way to tell which pirates would betray her and which wouldn't, but she supposed she'd have to find the most stupid one in Tortuga to not turn her in.  
She felt a thump beneath her, and then heard the hiss of the sand rubbing on the bottom of the Calypso. Land. She jumped to her feet and looked around, startled. She hadn't landed at the dock as she had planned to, but instead had floated right into the shore, beached! Serves me right for not paying attention. She thought angrily. She would have to make do with the situation, though, and find some way to get out of sight before someone found her here and asked questions.  
Questions. Those were the doom of a thief or pirate, or rather, what you answer them with. In her way of life, there was no telling the truth. But lies caught up to you at some point, and she knew it, and did not wish to tell more at the moment. Not another bunch to keep track of. She leapt off the boat lightly and scrambled closer in to Tortuga, the white sand that stretched for miles either way cool on her feet and wet with the recently high tide. From the beach there was a cleared path through small woods. She darted through it, blinded, as the trees blocked any and all light from the trail. In her limited viewing, she could hardly see the ground.  
THUD. Morgan tripped and fell face-down on the ground, catching her food on what felt like a log. She clambered to her feet, brushing herself off, and looked about. She could see nothing but blackness. She bent down to where she thought the log was and poked it, trying to feel if her estimations of the roadblock were true. When she did, it twitched a bit and moved.  
She held perfectly still, the thought of being in the presence of a wild animal finally entering her head. She listened. A slow, heavy breathing could be heard. It wasn't that of an animal, but of a human. Morgan put her hand down on the log and felt her way up it, and was surprised when she felt rough cloth where the log ended.  
Click. Morgan was blinded as a small match was lit, illuminating the entire scene. Her eyes darted to the source, and when she saw it, she screamed and jumped backwards. On the ground, leaning against a tree, was a man--a pirate in every way. His ebony hair was tied back into a short ponytail, capped with a thrice-tipped hat. His chiseled features were hard, and his face was broken into a wicked grin, showing a toothless mouth. A black eye patch covered one eye, and the other sparkled maliciously. He wore ragged clothes, hardly recognizable, and his right leg--Morgan realized with horror--was made of wood. That was the "log" she had tripped over. In his hand was a large bottle of amber liquid, and he reeked of body odor and rum.  
Taking advantage of Morgan's momentary surprise, the man reached forward the empty hand and snatched her wrist, pulling her in closer until she was inches away from his face. She tried to pull away, but he was too strong for even her.  
"What's a lass like you doing in these woods? You should be at Madame Pouffin's, she'll make good use of you and you'll be paid well for your." he paused and drew her closer, so tilting her head so that he hissed directly into her ear. ".services." Morgan's nose wrinkled in disgust and her free hand whipped to her thigh, and she snatched a dagger from where it was strapped around it. She slashed out at the man's hand, making him scream and let go. She turned on her heel and ran away as fast as she could, not caring if she was heading back to the beach or towards Tortuga.  
Thankfully, moments later, the trees cleared and she spotted Tortuga ahead, the lights of the pubs and prostitute houses still twinkling in the early morning. Drunken pirates and sailors alike meandered the cobblestone street, randomly bellowing out bits of songs. Morgan slowed her walk and perused the main town. There were a couple of pubs, a restaurant or two, four prostitute houses (she spotted the "Madame Pouffin's House of Pleasure" that the pirate had mentioned) and one general store. Down the road and rising up on a hill, Morgan could see a large manor house, though it was run-down and it didn't look like anyone was living there. Morgan entered the general store and looked around. She would need better clothing, stuff that would be less feminine and easier to do things in. She needed men's clothes. She finally decided on a pair of sturdy looking brown pants, black knee-high boots, and a loose white shirt that would hopefully hide her chest. Still that wasn't enough, she took a long piece of cloth to bind her chest and make it appear even more manly.  
Morgan slipped quietly out of the store, thanking her lucky stars that the owner was apparently asleep somewhere. She went into a small alleyway between a pub and prostitute house and changed into the clothes, re-did her ponytail, and bound her chest. Turning out of the alleyway, she went into the pub called the Four Doubloons. Inside, a rowdy fight was going on--just what Morgan had hoped for. No one would notice her if a fight was going on.  
Morgan felt someone slip their arm into hers, and next to her found a woman with heavy makeup on and a very revealing dress, leaving little to the imagination.  
"Cutie pie, what're you doing out here with the big boys?" she cawed, running a hand down Morgan's arm seductively.  
"You're just a babe! Look, you don't even have hairs on your chin yet! Come with me, we'll get out of this mess in here and go in the back room. It's a bit more calm there."  
Morgan nodded gratefully. She would be happy to get out of the loud room, away from the risk of being dragged into the fight and beat to a pulp. At her consent, the woman led him to a door in the corner of the room, which led to a smaller room with several tables on it. This one was quieter, but still loud for Morgan's tastes. Men sang songs at every table, banging their mugs together and spraying rum everywhere, enjoying the last few hours of nightlife before they went back to their ships. Morgan's heart skipped a beat when she observed that several of them had to be pirates, there was no other excuse for their looks.  
The woman sat her down at a table, then sat down on his lap. His eyes widened. What if she noticed that Morgan was lacking a bit of a. well, a bulge between her legs?! Morgan gently pushed the woman off. Not missing a beat, the woman sat herself beside Morgan.  
  
"My name is Susanna, by the way. What's yours?" she asked.  
  
"Erm." Morgan paused. She had forgotten about a name! "Um. P-P-Peter. Yeah, Peter."  
  
Susanna grinned. "I've always liked the name Peter," she whispered into her ear.  
  
Morgan felt her cheeks redden and squirmed on her stool uncomfortably. Suddenly there was a thump next to her, and a mug of rum thudded onto the table. Morgan looked next to her and was startled to see a man, a pirate to be more exact, had sat down right next to her with a sly grin on his face. He was looking at Susanna.  
  
"Seducing young boys, Susanna? You must really be desperate." He chuckled, taking a gulp of rum.  
  
"Hmmph! How rude!" sniffed Susanna, seeming miffed. She hopped off the stool next to Morgan and bustled back into the main room with her nose high in the air.  
Morgan looked to the pirate, still blushing.  
  
"Thanks." she muttered.  
  
"No problem, lad. Or shall I say lass?"  
  
Morgan gaped at him, her eyes widening in shock.  
  
"H-H-How-"  
  
The pirate waved his hand dismissively.  
  
"I can spot 'em by a mile away, don't worry. What's yer name?"  
  
Morgan glanced suspiciously around her, then leaned in towards him.  
  
"Morgan." she whispered.  
  
The pirated grinned, and Morgan finally noticed his odd looks. He had dark brown mangy hair hanging in clumps from beneath a three-tipped hat, beads and other various items braided and twisted into his hair. Heavy charcoal lined his mysterious brown eyes, sparkling currently with drunkenness. He was good looking in a strange sense, and his lighthearted attitude was catching even when he was silent.  
  
He grinned cheekily at her.  
  
"Well Morgan, nice to make yer acquaintance. Captain Jack Sparrow. Me ship is the Black Pearl, out at harbor there."  
  
Morgan's jaw fell open.  
  
"YOU captain the Black Pearl?!" she murmured in awe.  
  
He nodded and took another gulp of rum.  
  
"So what brings you to Tortuga, lass? I know you're not from round these parts." he growled.  
  
"I'm wanted back where I came from. I couldn't exactly stay, so I stole a boat and sailed it here."  
  
Jack quirked an eyebrow at her.  
  
"And what did ye expect to find in Tortuga?"  
  
Morgan shrugged.  
  
"A pirate sympathetic to my plight, enough to take me with them somewhere." A sudden thought struck her mind. "Would you take me then?" she asked.  
  
Jack looked at her surprised, then tilted his head back and roared with laughter. Morgan blushed and looked confused, then her expression quickly changed to fierce.  
  
"You WILL take me." she said commandingly.  
  
He looked at her, still chuckling.  
  
"The only people that make their way onto the Black Pearl are me crew and me lady company, girl. You are neither, unless you wish to be the latter."  
  
Morgan sneered.  
  
"In case you hadn't noticed, it's morning."  
  
Jack shrugged.  
  
"Makes no difference to me, just so long as I get the pleasure of your company." He grinned slyly.  
  
Morgan's mind was racing. She couldn't get on as a crew member, since he already knew she was a woman. She couldn't sneak her way onto his ship, she didn't know how to get on board and she'd likely be caught. The only way was to be his "lady company". But that wouldn't happen. A sudden thought then struck her head, and she grinned, lowering her eyes sweetly and taking his arm.  
  
"I would love to." she whispered softly in his ear.  
  
Jack tossed his mug to the floor and stood up, a pleased grin crossing his face.  
  
"I knew you'd come to your senses."  
  
Morgan went arm-in-arm with him as he led her out of the Four Doubloons, down the street, and off a different path that took them to the docks. She made a mental note of its location for later. Then he led her up a plank that went from the dock to the ship's deck, and they were in.  
Morgan smiled inwardly. She had gotten on the Black Pearl, and so far the Captain didn't know a thing. By the time he figured it out, it would be too late and they would be sailing away from Tortuga, Morgan aboard.  
Jack led Morgan into his quarters, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He turned to her expectantly, and Morgan had no idea what to do. Making a split-second decision, she snatched his shoulders and pulled him to her, latching her mouth onto his. He was surprised for a second but didn't waste any time, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. It was on odd feeling, Morgan decided, this kissing thing. She stayed latched to his mouth and slowly reached one hand down to her thigh, where she had tucked the dagger in again. When she felt her hand close on the cool metal, she sprung into action. In one quick, fluid moment, she whipped the dagger from its strap and held it to the Captain's throat, pulling her mouth from his.  
In his second of shock, she also snatched the long sword from the hilt wrapped around his waist and moved towards him, pointing both weapons at him. He backed up, as she had expected, to the wall.  
  
"Now, that's not very nice, attacking a man when he's drunk. Where's yer honor?" he grunted, grinning. Morgan poked the sword at him.  
She quickly glanced about the room for something heavy, and her eyes fell upon a lantern. Its light was out, likely never even lit since he hadn't been there all night. She tossed the dagger to the floor and snatched the lantern, holding it high.  
  
"Sorry Captain, this won't hurt a bit."  
  
She swung the lantern at his head, and hit. The lantern shattered and the Captain collapsed to the floor. "I lied. It might hurt a bit." she growled at his unconscious self.  
  
Morgan jumped as she heard a knock on the door.  
  
"Everything all right in there, Captain?" a voice grunted.  
  
Morgan looked around her in sheer panic, and finally made a decision.  
  
In a deepened voice, imitating Jack's accent, she said, "Fine, fine. Everything's fine, nothing suspicious at all in here, why would you think that?" Morgan could have slapped herself for being so uncreative.  
  
"Nothing, Cap'n, just thought I heard noises. Should we anchor off?"  
  
Morgan's look of shock grew to one of glee instantly. In the same voice as before she responded.  
  
"Yes, cast off. One of you can steer, I'm still.um. Hung over. Yeah. Hung over."  
  
There was a shuffle outside, and a new voice. A woman's voice. It was a hard and cold one, emotionless.  
  
"JACK, I'm steering the ship!" she demanded.  
  
"Erm. Who am I speaking to?" He asked, hoping it didn't sound to suspicious.  
  
She heard the person sigh outside.  
  
"Jack, you drank too much rum, even for you! It's Annamaria. Now, can I steer the ship or not?"  
  
"Um. Yeah, sure. Just leave me alone."  
  
There was another shuffle outside, and it sounded like they had all gone off to follow her orders. Morgan grinned happily and glanced outside. Tortuga was beginning to wake up, and the sun was half-risen on the horizon, turning the sky blood red. A few moments later, Morgan felt a lurch, and Tortuga started to move past the window slowly. They were leaving!  
She punched her fist into the air happily as she realized, she'd done it. She was on the Black Pearl, no one knew who she was, and she was away from port!  
But then her stomach suddenly dropped as she realized another thing-- she'd have to deal with the Captain when he awoke. 


End file.
